Try and Try Again
by MisfitPaperMage
Summary: The apprentice may have learned some new tricks, but has Asra learned anything at all? Pre-prologue, generic Apprentice.


_Author's note: This is a bit of pre-prologue, mostly to give me a chance to play with one of the Apprentice's "episodes". I have never been comfortable writing in first person, _or_ in present tense, but in the spirit of the game, I figured I'd give it a go. The Apprentice here is generic, to boot._

* * *

"There – you've got it now."

A globe of fire hovers in the air in front of me, flickering hungrily. I can already conjure balls of light and kindle fires, but today my master wanted to experiment, to stretch a little.

"You're holding the form well." Asra's voice comes from very close to my ear. He sounds pleased, and I allow myself a brief smile of satisfaction. I know better than to get smug. And sure enough… "Let's test that control, shall we?"

Before I can ask _how_, a sphere of water begins to coalesce around my fireball. Asra has a strong affinity for water, and this sort of thing seems like second nature to him. In a moment, my fire orb is encapsulated by a thin shell of liquid.

I think I see what he's looking for. I deliberately loosen my control of the fire for a moment, and steam hisses from the contact. Behind my shoulder, Asra _tsks_, though I'm positive he knows that was intentional.

"How long do you think you can keep this up?" His teasing tone holds a challenge.

"How long can _you?_" I retort.

His only reply is a chuckle as the water-shell begins to rotate.

"Show-off." The movement of the water is distracting, and it's difficult to see the fireball beneath.

"Can you take the water from me?" he asks, sounding both curious and encouraging.

"And hold them both at the same time?"

"Mmm. Maybe without the spinning." The water slowly comes to a stop, rippling in place.

I try to plan my way through it first, and Asra shakes his head. The motion sends some of his fluffy white curls brushing past my ear. "Don't think it out, feel for it," he urges me. We've had this conversation many times. "You can see it, weigh it, without touching it."

He's right, of course. I reach out to the water with my magic, taking its measure while I keep hold of my fire orb. The division of attention is challenging, but the fire is taking less of my concentration as time passes.

"I think…" As soon as I speak, Asra gently lets go of the water, and I rush to catch it, causing a few puffs of steam as the liquid shell sloshes slightly. It holds, though, and I exhale slowly as I realign the two spheres.

"Perfect!" Asra laughs in delight. I turn to smile at him – and nearly bump noses with him, we're so close. Impulsively, before he can politely back away, I kiss him. It's not the first time I've wanted to, but it's the first time I've dared.

He makes a startled sound but doesn't pull away immediately, and that's all the encouragement I need. The nested spheres loudly dissolve into steam behind me as I turn to kiss him again. Tentatively, almost as if against his will, he reaches out to grasp my shoulders. To push me away? To pull me closer? I'm not sure either of us knows.

After a long, sweet moment that leaves a tingling aftertouch of magic, he pulls away, looking at me with worry clear in his eyes. Why?

"We shouldn't – are you…" He's unusually flustered, but he hasn't relinquished his hold on me yet. His eyes roam over my face, searching for… what?

"Asra…?"

"I… You're all right?"

I don't understand his concern, and my confusion must show on my face. "I'm fine, Master, but–"

His mouth twists as I speak, as if I've said something distasteful. What in the world…? What box did I open with that simple kiss?

"We shouldn't do this," he says finally, his gaze sliding away from me. I can feel a tremor in his hands, belying the refusal in his words.

"Why not?" I honestly can't think of a reason that would cause him to hesitate like this. I know some of our neighbors already have certain assumptions about us, and it's never seemed to matter. And anyway, since when has Asra ever cared about the opinions of others?

He shakes his head, either unable or unwilling to be more specific. I feel a flare of frustration. For all of his naysaying, he still hasn't let go of me…

Steeling myself for rejection, I reach up to gently tilt his face back towards me. His eyes are wide with some complex emotion I can't name, but he doesn't resist as I pull him closer, my fingers tangling into the silky hair at the nape of his neck. This time, when our lips meet, he yields with a soft, desperate sound.

As if some invisible dam has broken, I can feel the touch of his magic washing over me, insistent and inescapable as the tides. I want this sensation to last forever – our bodies pressed together, our auras intermingled, our hearts…

A sudden dizziness threatens to overwhelm me and I break away with a gasp.

"What's wrong?" Asra sounds as if he's been suddenly drenched with ice-cold water. "Are you…?"

I can't speak, my tongue locked behind my clenched teeth. My head is suddenly pounding, almost like something is threatening to burst free. What's happening to me? I look at Asra in panic and there is an explosion behind my eyes. I can't help but cry out in pain.

"No, no, not again...!" Asra takes my hands and holds them tightly. "Breathe with me. Be _here_."

I can barely comprehend his words, but I know the tone of his voice. I try to steady my shallow breathing, but when I look up at his stricken face, the pain in my head redoubles, and I tear my hands out of his grasp as I fall to my knees.

"I can't," Asra whispers. I don't know what he means. I don't know much of anything besides agony.

"I'm so sorry," he says in a broken voice. I can tell, even with my eyes screwed tightly shut, that he's kneeling in front of me. "I need you to forget this – that any of this happened."

_Forget?_ I've forgotten so much already…

That thought sends another bolt of pain through my skull, but I still notice the soft fog encroaching on my awareness.

"No," I try to say. I'm not sure it comes out, but Asra hears it anyway.

"Please, don't fight it." His voice is ragged with something like grief. "Please. Let me wipe away the pain."

I finally relent, shivering at the depth of emotion in his tone. He whispers my name, and then the fog drifts over me like a blanket.

…

I look at the damp spot on the counter where I'd dropped the water and fire spheres. Why did I slip?

"Well done," Asra says warmly, squeezing my shoulder. "For a first try, that was excellent." I smile under his praise, but when I turn to look at him, his gaze is elsewhere.

* * *

I can't keep doing this.

It's happening more frequently now, and besides the fact that I'm so tired of hiding and keeping secrets… I don't know if I'm going to cause real, lasting damage with these memory spells. More damage than has already been done.

I need to leave again, I think.

Muriel will chide me again for staying here in the first place, but… I can't leave for good. Not yet.

Or maybe I just keep telling myself that, as I wait for those memories to come back – without the pain. I don't know if that's even possible, but sometimes it feels like there's some… remnant there, waiting to be unlocked.

Is it fair for me to keep hoping, to keep letting these episodes happen? Is it purely selfish?

...Or is it just utterly mad? That's how the saying goes, isn't it – "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result." Is that what I'm doing?

One of the cardinal rules in magic is to be careful what you ask for. This may not be what I wanted… but it _is _what I asked for, no more, no less. Like with any other contract, the Devil's in the details.


End file.
